


Unity

by WinterSorceress



Series: Genyatta Week 2018 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Celebrations, Genyatta Week, M/M, Omnic Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSorceress/pseuds/WinterSorceress
Summary: It is Genji Shimada's first time celebrating a particular Shambali holiday. However, thanks to Zenyatta, he just may understand the true meaning it holds...among other things.Day One of Genyatta Week 2018: Dancing/Music





	Unity

“What brings you out here, my student?”

“I should be the one asking you that, master,” Genji retorted lightly, arms crossed. “I noticed you weren’t inside. Are you…Is there anything wrong?”

Zenyatta straightened from his perch on the steps, having been hiding right outside the sanctum, and chuckled with a certain mirth. “Were you worried for me, Genji?” he asked, turning his head to regard the cyborg who stood several feet away. “I apologize. I have never been one for parties. I prefer…quieter activities, as you can imagine.”

There was a brief pause between them, filled only by the gusting wind that cradled their mountain home.

“…May I join you then, master?”

Such a request took the monk by surprise, and he jerked towards Genji once more. “Oh? Of course, you may, my dear,” he answered, though a tad bewildered. No sooner than he had accepted, his student was moving to settle at his side, the metal of his armor glinting in the moonlight. “Though, are you certain you don’t wish to return? I imagine it would be much more exciting than sitting with me. It  _is_  quite cold out here.”

Even from outside, Zenyatta could still faintly hear the festivities, the music, a harmony of chanting and bells, both large and handheld, and chatter drifting out from the temple; it was a sound he had grown to memorize, year after year.

This time, it was the ninja who laughed. “You can’t get rid of me  _that_  easily,” he teased, shifting to find a more comfortable position. “It’s no fun without you. “

Almost coy, the omnic rested a hand against his cheek, internal fans picking up ever so slightly, even under his robes. “You flatter me.”

He received a warm, playful nudge. “Then I’ve done my job tonight,” claimed Genji smugly. Though, his joking was interrupted by a thoughtful silence, as he found the clear skies above much more interesting. “…I can see why you’d prefer it out here. The stars are gorgeous. And the moonlight over the peaks…I can’t even describe it.”

Delighted by his student’s awe, Zenyatta lifted his optical receptors to join his gaze. “I know what you mean. I’ve lived up here for what feels like an eternity, and yet…the view never fails to take my breath away…” he murmured wistfully. He then chortled, correcting himself. “Though I have none to surrender, I might as well, as beautiful as this world is.”

“…Master?”

“Hmm?” He could feel Genji’s dark eyes on him, though he was satisfied with enjoying the scenery a bit longer.

Restlessly, he shifted next to him, something clearly on his mind. “What is this holiday about anyway?” he inquired, his tone carrying a hesitation, as though he feared pressing into details that were not his to investigate. “The Shambali are fairly new. I wouldn’t think they had enough history to…well, to have much to celebrate, at least not yet.”

The change in subject caught the monk off-guard, at last coaxing his attention away from the mountains. His gaze fixed on Genji, though he said nothing. Admiring the other’s scarred, handsome face, it was easy to recall the holiday’s source.

Though, his pupil wasn’t as in the know, and was soon scrambling to amend the situation. “Ah! I’m sorry, master. I meant no disrespect,” he stammered, showing his palms imploringly. “I was just curious.”

“Haha, no disrespect was committed, my dear,” Zenyatta reassured, returning from his thoughts with a chuckle. “I was merely remembering. After all, I was there.”

That calmed Genji with relief and further intrigue, though his cheeks remained quite red, possibly from a combination of embarrassment and the bite of the chilly night. “…You mean, you were present, for what brought this holiday about?” he questioned, eyes bright and mouth open with wonder.

The omnic nodded briskly, frost glittering across the metal of his frame. “You are correct,” he affirmed knowingly. Though, he didn’t finish his explanation. Instead, his attention wandered, back to the sanctum, the stone crown of the Shambali. At once, he could feel his impatience, much like a child’s. It reminded him of his student, so eager to learn. “There weren’t always humans among us. So close to the crisis, we were divided, even here.”

Genji seemed taken aback, for he didn’t respond. His stunned silence coaxed his teacher to regard him, somewhat worried about how he would take the revelation. His companion, thankfully, didn’t appear too distraught, mostly thoughtful, clutching his knees as he peered back with narrowed eyes.

“I see that surprises you, to know that the Shambali’s doors weren’t always open wide,” Zenyatta mused, glancing down at his own lap, folding his hands over the crimson sash that draped over his thighs. “Back then, the world was one of fear for many omnics, as the world decided what to do with us. Many weren’t merciful, my student. Many of us didn’t make it, so many. A number of those who survived…came here, for answers and for sanctuary.”

“…You were one of them, master?”

Again, he dipped his head, somber with such memories. “I was…very lucky. There were many times I almost didn’t…” Threatening to lose himself in the sorrow of the past, he rooted himself back to the present, lifting his optical receptors. “Ah. But things changed, with much effort, mainly from Master Mondatta and the first Shambali, including myself. We spread hope as far as we could, as well as compassion and understanding between our kind. And eventually…even humans wished to become students of the Iris’s warmth.”

The was enough to lighten the mood between them, the talk of a tomorrow brightened, the furthering of peace. “And they were permitted, master?” his student pressed, with a sense of excitement, enthralled by his tale. “Is…that what this day is about?”

Zenyatta couldn’t help but find Genji’s enthusiasm as uplifting as it was endearing. “Indeed, it is, my dear. Though, I admit, we were…hesitant. It was a leap of faith, one that we celebrate today,” he concluded, rediscovering his own cheer. “The bond between humans and omnics here became unbreakable, the love and trust and solidarity. And we take this holiday every year to remember, to dance and laugh together, like we shall for many years to come.”

The other too seemed satisfied with such an ending, if not a bit mystified by the piece of history revealed to him. “Wow. I…I had no idea. That  _is_  worth celebrating.” Abruptly, he paused, abruptly distracted, perhaps by an idea, his eyes sliding away to stare at the stone at his side. Then, without warning, he stood up. “…Master?”

Puzzled, Zenyatta gazed up at him. “What is it, Genji? Is something wrong?”

For a moment, Genji hesitated, as if he were searching for the words to say, and his face reddened slightly; he coughed sheepishly. “…I was wondering,” he finally managed. To the omnic’s further surprise, he held out a hand in invitation. “Will you dance with me? It’s what it’s all about after all, the harmony between us. I mean…the music is…kind of hard to hear, but—”

Somewhat dazed, his hand found its way to his chest, to still the organic heart he did not possess, though his core thrummed vibrantly in its place. “I would be delighted,” he replied, accepting the offer and allowing the cyborg to help him to his feet.

Gently, his student claimed his stray limb, interlocking their fingers with care. His brown eyes bore into his optical receptors with an intensity that made his processors rush. Then it was gone, his gaze falling away as he focused on leading their impromptu waltz.

It was stiff at first, experimental and clumsy, as they sought a rhythm that they both could follow. However, as they grew familiar with each other’s steps, the rocking of their bodies, any initial apprehension began to drift away. The distant chiming of the temple bells only added to the spell of the moment between them, as well as the solitude of the mountain.

It was just them, and the harmony they created together. Time mattered less and less, losing meaning. Even the cold was declawed by the warmth of their laughter, as their dance became more intricate and energetic, full of joy and the love they shared as master and student, and perhaps more.

Zenyatta was all too happy to follow Genji’s flow, circling as he did the same, their hands often clasped, even as he was twirled and held from behind. It barely occurred to him how strange it was to be so comfortable in the arms of his pupil, how it set his heart soaring with a weightless bliss. Or how he wished for it to never end, being here with Genji, his face alight with a happiness he hoped to see every day of his life.

Alas, all good things, no matter how pure, were destined to end.

“Ah, there you are,” a warm, familiar voice spoke up, breaking their solitude. “I was wondering where my two favorite troublemakers went.”

All too abruptly, Zenyatta was aware of how they had paused, their faces separated by a lone inch. It was far too close but, at the same time, not close enough. Yet, it was a temptation the monk knew better than to entertain. Steeling his heart, he pulled away to address their guest.

“Mondatta…” He called to his brother, at last reclaiming his remaining hand as he drifted away. “What are you doing out here?”

Atop the stairs, Master Mondatta observed them quietly, hands held always behind his back. “Unintentionally interrupting something, I see,” he replied, looking between them, his off-white frame brighter than usual in the moonlight; he almost seemed to glow. “I apologize. I didn’t realize.”

Bewildered by their master’s words, both master and student looked to each other in questioning. As soon as their eyes met, they realized and felt a rush of heat, however brief. What they had experienced had indeed been something no mere words could explain. As such, neither dared to try.

Zenyatta decided it was time to call it a night. “It’s nothing, brother. We’ll come back inside,” he reassured, attempting to hide his reflexive bashfulness. “It’s getting late.”

True to his word, the younger omnic started up the stairs. To his surprise, Genji was quick to match his pace, accompanying him on his short journey. All the more jarring was how the cyborg’s fingers brushed his, almost as if they longed to stay before thinking better of it. Instead, his student moved ahead to await him, watching over him as he cleared the final step.

“Everyone was missing you both,” Mondatta informed gently, turning to lead them to the sanctum. Though it was obvious there were questions he wished to ask, he did not inquire, much to his relief. “They’ll be glad to see you. It just wouldn’t be the same.”

“Alright, alright, Master Mondatta. We get it.” Obviously tickled by Mondatta’s insistence, Genji chuckled lightly. “We’re the belles of the ball.”

The head monk tilted his head back, as if puzzled. “We have several bells, actually…”

“Brother…” Zenyatta snickered.

“I jest, of course. I’m allowed my fun.”

With that, ease returned to the air between them. Lifting his head, Zenyatta focused on the warm mixture of chatter and laughter trickling from the heart of their temple. Though his bond with Genji was special in its own right, he remembered the meaning behind this day they celebrated together with such mirth.

The unity between humans and omnics among the Shambali, and hopefully, the one the future would bring to the world.

“Hey, master. I think Mondatta owes us a dance,” Genji declared, with a hint of playful mischief.

That caught his brother off-guard with an intrigued jolt. “Oh?”

Despite himself, Zenyatta couldn’t help but chortle. “I do believe you’re right, my student…”

And, in that moment, with the love between them, humans, omnics, or somewhere in between, he couldn’t help but believe.


End file.
